Il Principe
by 3rdplanet
Summary: In which Blaise Zabini realizes that Hermione Granger is completely and utterly insane.
1. 1

author note:

greetings! so i just wanted to throw this up here. it will probably continue for a little bit, but it wont end up being very long. if any of you read my story **paradise lost**, i am very very sorry that i have not updated in awhile, but i will very soon (i swear!). but until then, here is a different story to hold you over. i should really just stick to doing one at a time, but eh! where is the fun in that?

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**il principe, one**

Princes, thought Blaise Zabini as he presumptuously marched along a dark corridor towards the library, either kept their promises or broke them, told the truth or distorted it, sought popularity or ignored it, advanced public welfare or disrupted it, and conciliated their neighbours or destroyed them--depending merely on which courses of action seemed the best means of advancing their political interests.

Blaise, correctly or not, had always fancied himself to be rather Machiavellian. He was a Slytherin, after all, and therefore pre-programmed to be ambitious and deceptive. And, if Blaise admitted it (and he often did) he was rather cunning. Though Blaise was also rather wrong about some aspects of his character, he was extraordinarily intelligent. It was through this gift that he was able to perceive and control the solidarity of the Slytherin house. Blaise understood completely that he could neither be hated and feared nor loved and admired. If he wanted to enhance his political agenda, Blaise would have to appear as aloof and controlling as he could, which he did.

It was by staying neutral in issues like blood matter while only allowing the rest of his house to assume his stances that Blaise had commanded respect from all years. It was by studying in private that he made it appear as if he were completely naturally brilliant. It was by avoiding the rest of the school in shadows that he became the awed figure that he was to the Slytherins. While Draco Malfoy paraded his faults in front of the entire school, Blaise remained the true Slytherin prince. For while Malfoy was mocked by Potter and his sidekicks, Blaise remained a mystery to the other students. While Malfoy was humiliated by getting turned into a ferret in the middle of a hallway, Blaise was able to keep his dignity and façade intact.

Yet it was on one particular March morning as Blaise strutted through the shelves in the library that his carefully constructed web began to tangle. Blaise moved sleekly across the shadows of the musty books, carefully seeking out his quiet corner. It was one of the more dim ones, where Blaise had always been able to procure a slightly worn armchair and a single mahogany table on which he could carefully organize his layers of homework that he then completed in his specific shade of green ink with crisp even handwriting.

On this particular morning, however, a bushy haired Gryffindor commonly known by the name Hermione Granger currently occupied his chair. To make matters worse, Granger was not only sitting in his chair, she was sobbing in it. Blaise glared at a tangle of curls as a particularly wet drop splashed against the fine leather. Blaise at this point was in no mood to deal with a Gryffindor, let alone Granger, let alone when she was _crying_.

Blaise did not actually have any problem with Granger and her friends. In truth, he thought their spars with Malfoy were rather entertaining. Moreover, though he would never admit it to anyone (ever), he was almost afraid of Granger. He saw the bruise that lingered on Malfoy's cheek for almost a month, and he was pretty confident that all of her excessive studying had led her to be rather deadly with the wand too.

All of Blaise's confidence could not help him at this point. He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot debating the situation. On the one hand, he could abandon Granger to her tears and find another section to work in, or rather come back later. But Blaise was somewhat stubborn, and really did love that chair. Furthermore, that Transfiguration essay _really_ had to be written. Gulping nervously, Blaise realized that there was only one option available: get rid of Granger.

Sucking in a deep breath, Blaise mustered up all the Slytherin spirit, sneers, and sarcasm within him. "Excuse me, Granger," he drawled in a particularly aristocratic tone, "but your incessant sniffling is ruining my chair."

Blaise commended himself, Snape would be proud. To his dismay, however, his words did not seem to phase Granger at all. Instead, she gave a snort of laughter. Blaise recoiled back, appalled. _How dare she laugh!_ _That was a rather good, too._ It also did not help that combined with the tears; the snort was really unattractive and produced a large amount of lachrymose drops as well as snot, which Granger proceeded to wipe defiantly on her sleeve.

Shocked, Blaise stood there in horror. Things did not improve when Granger brushed herself off and stood up to face him. _Oh God!_ He thought in dismay, _This is it, here comes the punch_. Closing his eyes, he turned his face to the side, expecting that any second a loud smack would go ringing across his high cheekbones.

….

Nothing happened.

Confused, Blaise peeked open one eye to reveal a completely perplexed Granger, who had twisted her face up as she peered at him.

"Uh, Zabini, what exactly are you doing?"

Blaise stiffened, awkwardly, "You just…I thought…hit…Malfoy…uh-" Blaise stuttered uncertainly, all of his careful Machiavellian thoughts pushed out of the way by sheer confusion. He could not even get his haphazard speech out, however, for Granger immediately started laughing hysterically. _That's it_, thought Blaise, _the girl is more insane than Dumbledore_.

Doubled over, the Gryffindor continued to laugh, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Thank you, Zabini, really. I was rather upset before, but you definitely cheered me up," still laughing, she reached over to shake Blaise's hand. He limply agreed, continuing to stare at her wide-eyed.

"Whats wrong? Looks like you've been invested by a nasty wrackspurt if you ask me. Or maybe a blibbering humdinger." Still chuckling, Granger picked up her bag and walked out of the library calmly, as if nothing had taken place. Defeated and confused, the Slytherin prince sank into his comfortable chair. It would be several minutes before he remembered the essay


	2. 2

authors note:

hello! sorry it took so long for an update, im in the midst of moving so my life has been rather hectic. if you read **paradise lost**, an update should be up by the end of the week. thank you very much for the reviews i got on this story, it really makes my day whenever i see one! they are so kind, so thank you, and i hope this lives up to your expectations. if you are reading and not reviewing, which about 300 of you are... :( come on now, that's just not right.

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**il principe, two**

Transfiguration essay completed and in hand, it suddenly dawned on Blaise that he had been humiliated. Machivellian princes do not get mocked, humiliated, or embarrassed. Especially by Gryffindors. Especially by that insufferable prissy know-it-all stuck up little bit- it was at this point that Blaise suddenly realized that he had been grumbling angrily as he stalked ruthlessly down the corridor. Scowling, he glanced over to see a terrified second year Hufflepuff braced wide-eyed against the wall, as if in Blaise's rage he might destroy anything in his path.

"What are you staring at?" he barked, "Get out of here!" Eager to obey, or perhaps terrified to do the opposite, the Hufflepuff fled in a whirl of pudge, yellow, and black.

Much better. Blaise was now able to continue his grumbling angry rant as he marched down into the dungeons. This particularly distraught scene was completed by a fierce kick to an unresponsive stone wall. In pain, angry, and humiliated Blaise stumbled into the Slytherin common room. Movement stopped as every student inside turned to stare at the usually composed boy. Blaise simply growled and pushed children out of the way left and right before making his way up the stairs and collapsing on his bed, exhausted. Emotions were rather tiring, he decided. Blaise made a mental note not to try them again anytime soon.

Hermione, on the other hand, chortled her way all the way back to the Gryffindor common room, not even pausing to reprimand an overly touchy feely fourth year couple in the hallway. Instead she simply skipped by. Hermione had gone down to the library in search of comfort amongst the smell of parchment and old leather of her precious books. She had been set off again by Ron's childish insults and jibes, but after that amusing encounter with Zabini she cheered up greatly. It was awful lonely at times to have to deal with Ron's constant picking on her, and Hermione was not known for her ability to withstand his insults. She was a Gryffindor, not some cold Slytherin. She had _feelings_.

On the topic of Slytherin though, Hermione smiled to herself as she stepped through the portrait hole, Zabini was absolutely hilarious. The look on his face when he thought she was about to punch him…_priceless_. Chuckling merrily to herself she strolled right past Harry and Ron playing wizard chess in front of the fire. Not even stopping as she ruffled their hair affectionately, she pranced up the stairs to her room.

Harry and Ron both remained frozen in place after Hermione had swooped by giggling. Harry was in the midst of taking off his jumper, while Ron's fingers still held onto the head of his queen- mouth open in the middle of "Check." They both finally shook themselves free of their stupor as Ron exclaimed, "Honestly! That girl is scary at times."

* * *

Blaise woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. He would just put the incident with the Granger brat behind him. No one saw it, no one had to know. Smirking to himself in his characteristic Slytherin way (they never smiled, only smirked) he carefully dressed himself neatly and began his usual presumptuous march across the castle to the Great Hall, slipping through shadows as he went- he couldn't avoid being a mysterious inky shade even at 7 am.

No one was usually up this early on a Saturday except for the occasional Ravenclaw or two, so Blaise had no problem throwing open the doors of the Great Hall, puffing out his chest, and slinking over to the Slytherin table dramatically (yet silently). As soon as the doors flew open, however, Blaise realized that there was something horribly and miserably wrong. Granger was sitting at the Gryffindor table happily munching on a piece of toast while reading a book propped up against a jug of juice. To make matters worse, her two idiots Potter and Weasley were slumped up against the table; Potter shovelling eggs into his mouth while Weasley slept face down in his oatmeal.

Don't let her look at me…don't let her look…Blaise prayed as he slipped over and took his place at the end of his house table.

But alas. To Blaises' dismay Hermione took one glance over at the poor boy and burst into laughter again. Ron awoke with a start, causing oatmeal to fly everywhere and an unused fork to sail halfway across the great hall and land on the Slytherin table right in front of Zabini, prongs deep in the wood. Simultaneously, a glob of oatmeal smacked him in the face.

"Great shot, mate!" Harry cheered enthusiastically, "should've tried out for chaser instead!"

"Mmph idstil haf ta wake upthis early for your practicemm," Ron rubbed his eyes blearily, "why'd ya do that for anyway-ay-ayy" he trailed off in a large yawn.

Harry shook his head, "I told you, only time pitch was available this weekend. Anyway, Hermione what was so funny?"

Blaise watched, wide eyed, as Hermione leaned conspiratorially with the two boys while shooting him furtive glances. In a moment, both Harry and Ron had burst into laughter as well, tears welling up in their eyes as they looked over at the sulking Slytherin.

Fuming, Blaise grabbed the fork from the wood of the table and began to eat his meal.

* * *

Three and a half hours later, Blaise had counted down to the minute, he marched up to Hermione's table in the library where she was happily pouring herself into another one of her three feet over the minimum requirement essays. He slammed his fists down in front of her and glared.

Hermione looked up with a start, but soon broke into a grin when she saw Blaise.

"Good morning, Zabini!" she chirped cheerily, "Have a good breakfast?"

Blaise growled, "Absolutely not! No thanks to you and your little sidekicks. How dare you all laugh at me! And Weasley got oatmeal on me, you know. These robes where expensive, much more than he can dare to afford I'd say," Blaise sneered accordingly. He didn't like to go into all out snarky Slytherin mode often, and really didn't care about Weasley's finances at all. Still sometimes it was necessary to preserve ones wounded pride.

Hermione merely smiled, "Oh come on Blaise," she spoke conversationally, "you have to admit that it's all rather funny. Your problem is that you have no idea how to laugh at yourself. _That's_ what makes it all the more hilarious."

Blaise frowned, "Why on earth would I want to laugh at myself when I've already got you embarrassing me constantly?" he pouted. _Since when do I pout!_ Blaise thought angrily to himself, or at least he thought he said it to himself…the grin on Hermione's face said otherwise.

The girl just chuckled again, "Exactly what I'm talking about. You're much too, whats the term? Anal retentive. And this is coming from me, by the way, so you know that means a lot." She winked at him and grinned before gathering up her belongings and swooping from the library.

Blaise stood there stunned for the second time in a day.

….._What did she just call me?!_

"GRANGER!!" came a bellowed cry across the library. Hermione had stopped halfway across the library terrified, and Blaise was looking murderous. On that note, actually, so did Madam Pince.

Shit.


	3. 3

**authors note**: why hello! first of all, **thank you so so much **to everyone who has reviewed this story so far! it is the most amazing thing to see and i'm so glad you're all enjoying it. i really can't stress how much your comments mean to me :) i'm also glad that you think it's funny, i was worried that i was only amusing myself. anyway, thank you all very much. if you are not reviewing, thank you so much for checking out the story but let's be frank, i'm a greedy bitch that has NO idea what she's doing. am i sucking? is it okay? please let me know!! also if you are interested, i have a longer and much more serious other blaise/hermione story up called paradise lost. if you **review** either this one or that, i swear.. i will love you forever. (those who already reviewed... marry me?)

now onward to the story!

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**il principe, thre**

Hermione was angry. Scratch that- furious. Not just angry in a way that all Gryffindors get (temperamental, feisty, impatient, were words the Sorting Hat never mentioned, but never forgot), but so angry that her ears were more red than Ron's, so angry that she was positive that she would break something- most likely Zabini's face if she ever saw it again. And she would, especially tomorrow night at seven o'clock in the library.

Detention.

_Detention_.

How revolting, how disgusting cliché! The very word was loathsome and foul. Her entire school carrier ruined in three syllables. Madam Pince almost let Hermione get away with Zabini causing a fuss in the library. But then her stupid Gryffindor instincts kicked in and there had been yelling and oh Merlin, did she _really_ hex him that badly anyway?

It had started out fine, fun even. Blaise Zabini was a stuck-up Slytherin who needed to laugh at himself, and Hermione Granger was a secretly playful Gryffindor who tried to give him that chance. She had been daring, rash even…properly lived up to whatever it was that Godric had desired. And she had been resigned to this, to humiliation and book sorting and the complete end of her entire life.

Hermione marched through the hallways of Hogwarts, tramped up the moving staircases and threw herself inside the Gryffindor portrait hole (leaving an extremely shocked Fat Lady and several random students in a stupor). The common room was calm. People were laughing, joking. Even Harry and Ron were playing wizard chess by the fire like nothing was wrong. As the portrait slammed shut, however, all activity stopped as the house turned to look at their prized student- their saviour in house points.

Instantly, Hermione Granger began to sob. Harry rushed over to her side, shocked but ready. "Hermione?" he asked worriedly as he led her to sit down in an empty chair, "What's wrong?"

Hermione sobbed, "What's WRONG? I'll tell you what's wrong, I- I – I, HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME?" Harry shot a look over at Ron disapprovingly. The other boy shrugged, just as confused.

"Er- Ron?" Harry suggested timidly.

"No, not _Ronald!_" the boy in question jumped at his name. Relieved however, he tried approaching the sobbing girl, "Uh- who did what, Hermione?"

"Za—Za—Zabini. And now I have de…de…" The rest of her syllables were lost in a torrent of tears.

"Dementia? Delusions? Er, dysentery?" Harry tried miserably to help.

"DETENTION!" Screamed Hermione in agony, flapping her hands up and down dramatically; "My life is over, how could this happen to me? I'm going to fail everything, now! Oh, McGonagall is going to be so disappointed in me! What will I do?"

Ron bit back a laugh, "I'm sure it will be fine, Hermione," he turned to Harry and whispered, "Can you believe this? _McGonagall is going to be so disappointed in me?_ I always told you she was mental!"

"Have a little sympathy, Ron!" Harry shot back under his breath, "this is the girl whose boggart was McGonagall telling her she failed everything, remember? I'm just afraid she'll dehydrate herself. Hermione!" he turned back to the sobbing girl now mumbling to herself, "DO YOU WANT SOME WATER?" he pronounced each word very clearly as if she had gone deaf.

Hermione just nodded feebly as she babbled, Harry catching snippets of her distress such as "All Ts," "Witch Weekly," and "should have let the Troll…"

Harry looked around and quickly transfigured an old cushion into a slightly worn looking goblet, "Er, what's the charm again? Agua..uh…Aguamentos!" there was an explosion of rather minty smelling water that hit Seamus from across the room.

"Aguamenti-i-i-i-i…" Hermione trailed off in another onslaught of tears.

While Harry finally got her a glass of water, Ron tried not to burst from withheld laughter, and Seamus made some rather rude hand gestures and obscene taunts, across the castle Blaise Zabin wasn't exactly having a blast either.

Grumbling a gross amount of curses, Blaise came stumbling into the Slytherin Common Room for the second day in a row in a daze of anger and plots to murder a certain bushy headed Gryffindor. Oh, she would suffer. Blaise vowed right there that he would destroy her. Tomorrow night, she was all his. Slowly she would succumb to his power, humiliated and defeated she would crawl before him begging for mercy and he would offer none. He was the proud, the invincible, the magnificent Blaise Zabini! _And let none defy him_.

Standing with his two fists in the hair, maniacally laughing with glee at his plot to bring down Granger, Blaise suddenly realized that he was standing the middle of the crowded Slytherin dorm, and that he had a nasty habit of talking out loud at the complete wrong times.

Slowly, he lowered his fists down to his side and surveyed the common room. _Look poised, look regal_, he thought (with careful concentration not to open his mouth) as he puffed his chest and stretched his neck. Elegantly he arched a single eyebrow and asked the room, "Well?" Instantly, the common room went back to busily moving about on their own business.

Blaise scowled, secretly praising himself on a job well done, and began to swagger towards the stairs to the boys dormitory. Then he heard it, "Zabini!" he froze as he recognized the nasal tone. Shit. The only person he wanted to see even less than Granger.

Blaise turned around slowly, "Malfoy" he cooly replied with a curt nod before attempting to continue up the staircase.

"Not so fast, Zabini!" Malfoy smirked, it was really displeasing on him. The smirk was an ancient Slytherin art- a move that combined a haughty sense of purpose with a cold distain. On Draco, however, it just looked like he was rather constipated.

"I just wanted to say congratulations," the boy continued. Blaise could not help but wonder how own person could be so alarmingly pale. He was probably sick in some way, _inbreeding would do that_ he thought.

"Congratulations on what exactly, Malfoy?" Blaise asked pointedly as he marvelled the remarkable pointy-ness of Draco's face.

"Why, on finally deciding to give that stupid Mudblood hell, of course!" Malfoy replied cheerily, "I mean you've always been so aloof, but it's really fitting to see you engaging in our little pastime. Really, to mock that bushy headed disgusting buck toothed bitch of a Gryffindor is really a sport that you should engage in. You know my father always said…"

At this point Blaise tuned Malfoy out as he continued to scrutinize Draco's odd features. He could probably stab someone with his nose. And that _hair!_ Blaise almost pitied the poorly treated and slicked back white… creature!

"And you know what we do about those blood traitors. Why, one time Potty and Weasel…" Finally he curled a lip in disgust. Carefully hiking up his trousers, Blaise stepped up on the steps away from Malfoy. The other boy looked at him confusedly. Blaise just smiled apologetically and said, "Please excuse me. You're bullshit was just getting on my expensive shoes." Nodding swiftly, Blaise left the other boy stunned and staring up at his retreating back.

He really couldn't be bothered with Malfoy anyway. He had plots to deviously scheme and less than 24 hours to plan the destruction of Hermione Jean Granger.


	4. 4

authors note:

hell00. thank you again, to everyone who reviewed! it really means so much to me that you're enjoying this and actually finding it amusing. :) i hope this chapter is to youre liking don't worry, there will be more funnies in the next one. if youre in the mood for reading something else, please check out paradise lost (a longer, serious bz/hg story of mine) or i just put up the first chapter to a tom/hermione story called the wandering rocks. anyway, this chapter is dedicated to krazie-livin since i promise her i would update if she updated breaking stigmas (a really cute/funny bz/hg story that you should all check out). :)

onward!

* * *

Blaise was plotting. It was something he was really rather good at, sitting alone in his dorm room scheming wily tricks and plots. Over the past couple days, Blaise had realized that he was completely out of control. This was NOT the way an intelligent, collected, Machiavellian prince acts. Oh no, he had been showing too much…that breakdown in the common room? _Unacceptable_.

So Blaise sat on his bed figuring out a way to take it down a notch. He was Blaise Zabini, after all, notorious among the Slytherins for being aloof and impassive. So tomorrow night, he decided, Hermione would experience no anger, no yelling, just a deliciously cold Slytherin prince. Granger, being the outrageous freak that she was, would be overwhelmed by the lack of emotion. Expecting a fight, the feisty Gryffindor would break down as he refused to engage. Blaise smiled evilly as he drummed his long fingers maniacally against each other, this was going to be excellent.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione was also collecting her thoughts in the emptied Gryffindor common room. She had been too rash, she decided. Sure, detention probably was the end of her life. But she was NOT going to go down without a fight. Oh, Blaise Zabini was in for quite a surprise. Hermione chuckled to herself as she began to plan her actions for the next day.

All it would take was one little push and Zabini would come undone. He was so unused to the idea of anyone invading his personal space, or pushing him out of that ridiculous little world he had created for himself. Obviously he thought himself as some great mysterious leader. Hermione snorted, oh he was in for quite a surprise. Zabini would clearly expect her to come in crying, distraught at the thought of detention. But Hermione had gotten over that stage and was well into phase two: revenge. Hermione began to laugh coldly as she plotted, the sound slowly getting louder and louder as it echoed up the stairs to where two boys were sitting watching her.

Ron's face looked terrified and Harry's perplexed as they overheard Hermione cackling to herself.

Ron swallowed nervously, "I told you, there is something very, very scary about her. If any of us were to go crazy and start killing off the whole school, it's definitely her."

Harry didn't look to calm either as he nodded, "We should be afraid," he asserted, "Very, very afraid."

* * *

The next morning, Ron and Harry made their way down the breakfast. Unsurprisingly, Hermione was the first one there and was already sitting calmly, reading the Daily Prophet and enjoying a large bowl of oatmeal. Glancing at each other, they approached the previously distraught girl.

"Good morning Hermione," Harry said tentatively, "Er, how are you?" Ron reeled back and scrunched up his face in preparation for an explosive outburst.

Instead, Hermione just smiled hugely and replied, "Wonderful, thank you Harry! It is a beautiful morning," noticing Ron's expression Hermione frowned slightly, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Ron, you might get stuck like that. It's rather unattractive," she said dismissively as she popped a spoonful of oatmeal in her mouth.

Harry and Ron looked at each other in terror. There was something deeply wrong here. No more crying? No more dismay of the detention looming ahead? No more evil cackling?

Hermione suddenly stood up and brushed herself off briskly, "I'll see you boys later, I'm off to the library!"

Before they could respond, Hermione flounced away suavely. Once her back was turned to Great Hall, however, her eyes squinted together and she began to chuckle with glee. She rubbed her palms together as she laughed. Oh, today would be interesting, indeed.

* * *

Several hours later, Blaise began to strut down to the library to report for detention. He smirked as he walked. He had spent quite some time composing himself and preparing for the destruction of Granger. However, when he finally stepped into the library at precisely seven o'clock pm, he was not prepared for the sight in front of him. Not only was Granger already there, but she was smiling serenely as she sorted the various books around her and slid them onto their appropriate shelves. Madam Pince was looking at her fondly and the two began to laugh at something Granger had said.

Blaise was stunned and made some sort of combination of a grunt and a gasp. Madam Pince and Granger both turned to stare at him in the doorway. Immediately, the librarian glared at him and chastised, "Mr. Zabini, you're late. 10 points from Slytherin," she shook her head and sighed, "Why can't you be more like Miss Granger?" Behind her, Hermione grinned evilly, "Hermione arrived almost an hour ago and has already finished most of her work. But don't worry, I found even more for you to do." She leered at him before shuffling away and disappearing into the stacks of books.

Blaise turned to Hermione in shock. "Evening, Zabini!" she chirped happily, "What took you so long?" Blaise remained still, unable to speak. At this point, he wasn't even about to freak out. In truth, Blaise kind of admired the Gryffindor. If it weren't for her blood, he had no doubts that the Sorting Hat might have considered her for Slytherin. She was clever, wily, and schemed against him in a way that even he, the master of plots, would not have thought of.

"Not bad, Granger," Blaise said begrudgingly, "Not bad at all," while he was slightly furious that once again the girl had managed to get the better of him, he had to admit that she was a lot more devious than he gave her credit for.

Hermione just smiled as she continued to put away books, "I don't know what you mean, _Blaise_," she replied sweetly and putting emphasis on his first name.

"Oh you know, _Hermione_, just your little trick to get me riled up,"

Hermione gave a low chuckle, "You know, Zabini, this is an interesting development. I had expected you to come in storming and create quite a scene."

Blaise frowned grumpily, "Yes well, I decided that was rather unbecoming."

"_And_ because you secretly have admitted that I got the better of you once again," Hermione said as she idly flipped through the pages of one of the books she was holding.

"I would never admit to such a thing," Blaise said stiffly, "you're beneath me. You're a—"

"A what? A mudblood?" Hermione said scornfully as she snapped the book shut.

Blaise shook his head, "No. Just a Gryffindor, which is even worse."

Hermione sighed, "You're so incredibly pompous. Don't you realize that while all of Slytherin may think of you as their leader, the rest of the school highly dislikes your arrogance?" Glancing at Blaise's shocked face she continued, "You may think we don't notice it, but we do. It's not just unbecoming, it's laughable." Sliding the last book she announced perkily, "I'm done!" As she gathered her things and began to leave the library she turned back once and carefully looked over the stunned Slytherin, "Just something to think about."

Blaise stood silently in shock as the girl disappeared into the corridor. Outside, Hermione smirked and gave herself a pat on the back.

* * *

i update when i get reviews so uh... _**PLEASE REVIEW :) :)**_

i'm a greedy bitch, i know. just do it.


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